Redecorate
by Bree Rose Namet
Summary: Senior year. Something happens that changes Rachel's life forever. NO LONGER UPDATING
1. Prologue

**A/N: I accidentally posted a different version of this chapter yesterday, but this is the real one. Sorry for the confusion. But I was so happy with the positive response to the prologue! So, here you go, chapter 1. Let me know what you guys think.  
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**Disclaimer: I own nothing you recognize.**

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><p>Rachel sighed and brushed her bangs out of her eyes. The funeral had been held a week after the accident. She'd cried the whole time. Santana, Brittany, and Puck had been with her 247, but she'd asked to go home alone.

No, not alone. Her 23-year-old cousin (who she never knew she had) had been named as her legal guardian, and the two of them would be living at the Berry house. They were currently in the college dropout's bright red Ferrari—a gift from one of her many lovers.

"It was a lovely funeral," the woman—no, girl—chirped. Her name was Carma Segal. She was an unsuccessful actress with no talent from off-off-off-off-Broadway—if even that. Her hair was dyed platinum blonde and she'd had so much plastic surgery that she looked about sixteen.

"Rayla, you're going into high school, right?" her cousin asked.

"My name is Rachel, and I'm going into grade twelve," Rachel corrected quietly.

They pulled up in front of the house and Rachel grabbed three of her cousin's seven suitcases—how they fit in the sports car she would never understand. She got out and walked up to the front door, which she unlocked and opened quietly.

"Well, ain't this cute!" Carma said, coming through the door and letting it swing shut behind her.

"Your room is up here," Rachel said. She led the way up the stairs and into the guest room.

"Thanks, darlin. See you in a few!" Carma said brightly, putting her suitcases on the bed and closing the door in Rachel's face.

Rachel went across the hall to her room, but she stopped in the doorway. She'd been living at Brittany's house that week, and her room was unrecognizable!

The walls were painted dark purple and gold, her bedding was gold and purple sheets, as were the curtains, there was a large gold shag rug on the floor, her desk was now dark wood, and it looked like her closet had been expanded.

"Santana, Britt," Rachel said quietly. She didn't have the energy to be angry anymore. "What have you done to my room?"

The Latina looked up from her place on Rachel's bed and smiled sympathetically. "I redecorated. You needed a change."

"I guess you're right..."

"We're gonna be seniors tomorrow, Rach!" her best friend grinned. "I bought a new rug and I was gonna give you my old one, but it didn't go with your room _at all!_ So, I redecorated."

Brittany Pierce gave Rachel an affectionate smile. "I helped. Don't you think it looks pretty, Ray?"

Rachel looked around her new room. It _was_ nice—Santana and Brittany had amazing taste—and she _had_ been getting annoyed with all the pink, but...

"This must have cost a fortune!" Rachel moaned, sinking down on the thick rug next to her bed.

"Nah. Besides," Santana said, "even if it did, we just used _our_ redecorating money and spent it on _your_ room."

"And you guys managed all this in a _week?_"

"Yup," Santana said, going back to braiding her girlfriend's hair. "Oh, and put something on from your closet so that I can burn—er, give away the clothes you brought with you."

"You burned all my clothes?" Rachel said sadly, heading to the now walk-in closet.

"Nope. Just the stuff that made you look like a little kid."

"Yeah, she did," Brittany said, wiggling away from Santana a little. "Ow, that's too tight, San."

Rachel pulled open the door to her closet and saw rack after rack of designer clothes.

"San, Brit, this is too much," Rachel complained. "This dress _alone_ must have cost five thousand dollars!"

"Nope," Santana grinned, coming up behind her friend. "Well, maybe at the original price. Most of this stuff was mine, or I got it from some of my mom's designer friends."

Rachel groaned, quickly grabbing a pair of jeans and a plain red tank top.

"Atta girl," Santana grinned evilly. "You'll thank me at school."

"_Satan_," Rachel muttered.

Rachel got up Tuesday morning to an unfamiliar room: it took her a minute to remember the whole redecoration. She self-consciously pulled on some jeans, a gold t-shirt, and strappy inch-high sandals.

Rachel went downstairs slowly and poured some cereal. Carma wasn't up yet: she was clearly the kind of person who slept till eleven.

Fifteen minutes later, she was putting her dishes in the sink when somebody knocked on the door.

"Hi, San," she said, trying in vain to smile at her Latina best friend. "Cheerios uniform looks good."

Santana grinned. "Hey. You look hot. Ready to go?"

Just another day with Santana Lopez. "Yeah."

Rachel grabbed her new (designer label) backpack and went out, locking the door behind her.

"San, who's that? Is that your new girlfriend? She's hot. Does this mean you're breaking up with me?" Brittany asked when they got to Santana's cherry-red Prius.

"Don't be silly. You know I love you," Santana smiled, kissing Brittany's nose. "It's Rachel."

"Oh yeah. We gave you a makeover." Brittany turned back to Santana. "Just wait until Puck—"

"Shh!"

Rachel looked back and forth between her best friends, confused. "What were you going to say, Brit?"

"Until Puck tells Finn and he sees you," she said, fiddling with the skirt of her Cheerios uniform, but the tall blonde had never been good at lying. (And that didn't even make _sense!_)

"We should get going," Santana said hastily.

They drove for fifteen minutes and pulled up in the parking lot. Rachel got out feeling self-conscious. Her new wardrobe was a far cry from the _Kids 'R' Us _clothes she was used to.

As they walked into the school, she was aware of everybody staring at her.

"Oh, there's Quinn," Brittany grinned.

"Hey S, B," she nodded. Then she turned to Rachel. "Rachel, I'm really sorry about your dads."

"Thanks, Quinn."

"See you in class, Q?" Santana said, pulling Rachel and Brittany towards their lockers, where Puck was waiting. By pulling a few strings, Santana had gotten Rachel's locker moved next to hers and Brittany's.

"Tell Finn to meet me at my locker!" the head cheerleader called, her uniform disappearing in the crowd.

Rachel went to her locker, but it was blocked by her third best friend: Puck, looking as hot as ever in his football jacket over a white t-shirt and low-rise jeans.

"Damn, Berry," Puck smirked, looking her up and down. "I liked the skirts, but _this_ is something else."

A few months ago, Rachel would have snapped at him, but it was all she could do to notice what was going on anymore. "Excuse me, Noah. I need to get to my locker."

Finn appeared at Puck's shoulder. "Hi. Hey, Puck," Finn nodded. "Have any of you seen Quinn?"

"She wants you to meet her at her locker," Rachel said. After her relationship with Finn had fallen apart at the beginning of the summer, Finn and Quinn had gotten back together. It had hurt at first, but now she didn't mind. The whole "not letting love getting in the way of New York City" was still in place for Rachel. Also, of course, she didn't have the strength for a committ

* * *

><p>ed relationship after the accident.<p>

"Oh, thanks... Rachel?" The tall boy took a step back. "Wow! You look... different! Really pretty," he said hastily. "Look, I'm sorry about your dads and all."

"Thanks, Finn."

He disappeared with Puck on his heels.

"C'mon, we have class," Santana said, grabbing Rachel's hand and Brit's and pulling her friends to their first class.

Throughout the day, people kept complimenting Rachel and telling her they were "sorry about your... er... dads". There was also a lot of raised eyebrows at the fact that Rachel Berry was suddenly best friends with Santana, Brittany, and Puck.

Rachel impatiently counted down the minutes to their first glee meeting of the year, so she was surprised when Santana led the way down the hall last period to the choir room.

"Um, San? School's not over..."

"Didn't you know? Glee is an official class now," Santana grinned.

"Does this mean we can go feed the ducks after school?" Brittany asked absentmindedly.

"Sure, B."

When they walked in, the rest of the glee club was there, but they all turned and stared at Rachel in shock, which quickly turned to sympathy. Mercedes and Kurt came over and hugged her, and the rest of the glee club quickly followed.

"Take a seat, everybody," Mr. Shue said after a minute. Rachel, Brittany, and Santana sat down in the front row next to Puck. "Now, we have some new members joining this year."

Four people came forward. Two of them were freshmen, but to their surprise, there was also Blaine Anderson—Kurt jumped up and hugged his boyfriend, as did Mercedes—and Matt Rutherford!

The second the glee club recognized Matt, Mike jumped up and ran to hug his old friend, followed by Finn, Puck, Artie, Santana, and Brittany.

"Okay, okay, let me breathe!" Matt laughed. He went and sat down next to Mike, and the others went back to their seats.

Blaine sat down between Kurt and Mercedes, in the row behind Rachel, Brittany, Santana, and Puck.

"You all know Blaine Anderson, I'm pretty sure," Mr. Shue grinned. "And some of you know Matt Rutherford."

"This is Kalina and Connie Eldrich," Mr. Shue said. They went and sat among the older glee clubbers.

"Now then. You did terrifically at Nationals last year, but—yes, Santana?"

Santana stood up. "Mr. Shuester, this year, I think the female lead should be split with me, Mercedes, and Rachel. I talked to everybody and they agreed and shit. I don't really think we should put all this pressure on Rachel when you don't even _like_ her."

"That isn't true, Santana," Mr. Shue said uncomfortably. "But I like the idea, Santana.

"Now, as I was saying, we need to up our game," the choir teacher continued. The older members, who knew what to expect, sighed and leaned back, ready for a long lecture. "Vocal Adrenaline, as you may know, won Nationals, and you can bet that they're already hard at work preparing for this year. We now have eighteen members, so that's more talent we can use. We're going to beat Vocal Adrenaline this year!"

He looked around at the club. "I know this is only the beginning of the year, but it's not too early to start getting ready for Sectionals."

"Mr. Shue?" Brittany said, raising her hand. "We should keep writing original songs for the competitions."

"I couldn't agree more," he said, seeming confused that Brittany had... well... everybody loved the blonde, but she wasn't known for making sense. "If you all want to start thinking of ideas, we'll meet back here in a week. Now, I want every new member to pair up with an old member, so that you can learn the basics of songwriting."

Matt paired with Mike. Blaine and Kurt clung together. Kalina and Connie became a group of four with Brittany and Santana.

Rachel looked lost, because up until then she'd been the best songwriter in the group, but Santana and Brittany grabbed her and pulled her over.

"Great, guys! See you in a week!" Mr. Shue grinned.


	2. Chapter 1

**A/N: I accidentally posted a different version of this chapter yesterday, but this is the real one. Sorry for the confusion. But I was so happy with the positive response to the prologue! So, here you go, chapter 1. Let me know what you guys think.  
><strong>

**Disclaimer: I own nothing you recognize.**

* * *

><p>Rachel sighed and brushed her bangs out of her eyes. The funeral had been held a week after the accident. She'd cried the whole time. Santana, Brittany, and Puck had been with her 247, but she'd asked to go home alone.

No, not alone. Her 23-year-old cousin (who she never knew she had) had been named as her legal guardian, and the two of them would be living at the Berry house. They were currently in the college dropout's bright red Ferrari—a gift from one of her many lovers.

"It was a lovely funeral," the woman—no, girl—chirped. Her name was Carma Segal. She was an unsuccessful actress with no talent from off-off-off-off-Broadway—if even that. Her hair was dyed platinum blonde and she'd had so much plastic surgery that she looked about sixteen.

"Rayla, you're going into high school, right?" her cousin asked.

"My name is Rachel, and I'm going into grade twelve," Rachel corrected quietly.

They pulled up in front of the house and Rachel grabbed three of her cousin's seven suitcases—how they fit in the sports car she would never understand. She got out and walked up to the front door, which she unlocked and opened quietly.

"Well, ain't this cute!" Carma said, coming through the door and letting it swing shut behind her.

"Your room is up here," Rachel said. She led the way up the stairs and into the guest room.

"Thanks, darlin. See you in a few!" Carma said brightly, putting her suitcases on the bed and closing the door in Rachel's face.

Rachel went across the hall to her room, but she stopped in the doorway. She'd been living at Brittany's house that week, and her room was unrecognizable!

The walls were painted dark purple and gold, her bedding was gold and purple sheets, as were the curtains, there was a large gold shag rug on the floor, her desk was now dark wood, and it looked like her closet had been expanded.

"Santana, Britt," Rachel said quietly. She didn't have the energy to be angry anymore. "What have you done to my room?"

The Latina looked up from her place on Rachel's bed and smiled sympathetically. "I redecorated. You needed a change."

"I guess you're right..."

"We're gonna be seniors tomorrow, Rach!" her best friend grinned. "I bought a new rug and I was gonna give you my old one, but it didn't go with your room _at all!_ So, I redecorated."

Brittany Pierce gave Rachel an affectionate smile. "I helped. Don't you think it looks pretty, Ray?"

Rachel looked around her new room. It _was_ nice—Santana and Brittany had amazing taste—and she _had_ been getting annoyed with all the pink, but...

"This must have cost a fortune!" Rachel moaned, sinking down on the thick rug next to her bed.

"Nah. Besides," Santana said, "even if it did, we just used _our_ redecorating money and spent it on _your_ room."

"And you guys managed all this in a _week?_"

"Yup," Santana said, going back to braiding her girlfriend's hair. "Oh, and put something on from your closet so that I can burn—er, give away the clothes you brought with you."

"You burned all my clothes?" Rachel said sadly, heading to the now walk-in closet.

"Nope. Just the stuff that made you look like a little kid."

"Yeah, she did," Brittany said, wiggling away from Santana a little. "Ow, that's too tight, San."

Rachel pulled open the door to her closet and saw rack after rack of designer clothes.

"San, Brit, this is too much," Rachel complained. "This dress _alone_ must have cost five thousand dollars!"

"Nope," Santana grinned, coming up behind her friend. "Well, maybe at the original price. Most of this stuff was mine, or I got it from some of my mom's designer friends."

Rachel groaned, quickly grabbing a pair of jeans and a plain red tank top.

"Atta girl," Santana grinned evilly. "You'll thank me at school."

"_Satan_," Rachel muttered.

Rachel got up Tuesday morning to an unfamiliar room: it took her a minute to remember the whole redecoration. She self-consciously pulled on some jeans, a gold t-shirt, and strappy inch-high sandals.

Rachel went downstairs slowly and poured some cereal. Carma wasn't up yet: she was clearly the kind of person who slept till eleven.

Fifteen minutes later, she was putting her dishes in the sink when somebody knocked on the door.

"Hi, San," she said, trying in vain to smile at her Latina best friend. "Cheerios uniform looks good."

Santana grinned. "Hey. You look hot. Ready to go?"

Just another day with Santana Lopez. "Yeah."

Rachel grabbed her new (designer label) backpack and went out, locking the door behind her.

"San, who's that? Is that your new girlfriend? She's hot. Does this mean you're breaking up with me?" Brittany asked when they got to Santana's cherry-red Prius.

"Don't be silly. You know I love you," Santana smiled, kissing Brittany's nose. "It's Rachel."

"Oh yeah. We gave you a makeover." Brittany turned back to Santana. "Just wait until Puck—"

"Shh!"

Rachel looked back and forth between her best friends, confused. "What were you going to say, Brit?"

"Until Puck tells Finn and he sees you," she said, fiddling with the skirt of her Cheerios uniform, but the tall blonde had never been good at lying. (And that didn't even make _sense!_)

"We should get going," Santana said hastily.

They drove for fifteen minutes and pulled up in the parking lot. Rachel got out feeling self-conscious. Her new wardrobe was a far cry from the _Kids 'R' Us _clothes she was used to.

As they walked into the school, she was aware of everybody staring at her.

"Oh, there's Quinn," Brittany grinned.

"Hey S, B," she nodded. Then she turned to Rachel. "Rachel, I'm really sorry about your dads."

"Thanks, Quinn."

"See you in class, Q?" Santana said, pulling Rachel and Brittany towards their lockers, where Puck was waiting. By pulling a few strings, Santana had gotten Rachel's locker moved next to hers and Brittany's.

"Tell Finn to meet me at my locker!" the head cheerleader called, her uniform disappearing in the crowd.

Rachel went to her locker, but it was blocked by her third best friend: Puck, looking as hot as ever in his football jacket over a white t-shirt and low-rise jeans.

"Damn, Berry," Puck smirked, looking her up and down. "I liked the skirts, but _this_ is something else."

A few months ago, Rachel would have snapped at him, but it was all she could do to notice what was going on anymore. "Excuse me, Noah. I need to get to my locker."

Finn appeared at Puck's shoulder. "Hi. Hey, Puck," Finn nodded. "Have any of you seen Quinn?"

"She wants you to meet her at her locker," Rachel said. After her relationship with Finn had fallen apart at the beginning of the summer, Finn and Quinn had gotten back together. It had hurt at first, but now she didn't mind. The whole "not letting love getting in the way of New York City" was still in place for Rachel. Also, of course, she didn't have the strength for a committ

* * *

><p>ed relationship after the accident.<p>

"Oh, thanks... Rachel?" The tall boy took a step back. "Wow! You look... different! Really pretty," he said hastily. "Look, I'm sorry about your dads and all."

"Thanks, Finn."

He disappeared with Puck on his heels.

"C'mon, we have class," Santana said, grabbing Rachel's hand and Brit's and pulling her friends to their first class.

Throughout the day, people kept complimenting Rachel and telling her they were "sorry about your... er... dads". There was also a lot of raised eyebrows at the fact that Rachel Berry was suddenly best friends with Santana, Brittany, and Puck.

Rachel impatiently counted down the minutes to their first glee meeting of the year, so she was surprised when Santana led the way down the hall last period to the choir room.

"Um, San? School's not over..."

"Didn't you know? Glee is an official class now," Santana grinned.

"Does this mean we can go feed the ducks after school?" Brittany asked absentmindedly.

"Sure, B."

When they walked in, the rest of the glee club was there, but they all turned and stared at Rachel in shock, which quickly turned to sympathy. Mercedes and Kurt came over and hugged her, and the rest of the glee club quickly followed.

"Take a seat, everybody," Mr. Shue said after a minute. Rachel, Brittany, and Santana sat down in the front row next to Puck. "Now, we have some new members joining this year."

Four people came forward. Two of them were freshmen, but to their surprise, there was also Blaine Anderson—Kurt jumped up and hugged his boyfriend, as did Mercedes—and Matt Rutherford!

The second the glee club recognized Matt, Mike jumped up and ran to hug his old friend, followed by Finn, Puck, Artie, Santana, and Brittany.

"Okay, okay, let me breathe!" Matt laughed. He went and sat down next to Mike, and the others went back to their seats.

Blaine sat down between Kurt and Mercedes, in the row behind Rachel, Brittany, Santana, and Puck.

"You all know Blaine Anderson, I'm pretty sure," Mr. Shue grinned. "And some of you know Matt Rutherford."

"This is Kalina and Connie Eldrich," Mr. Shue said. They went and sat among the older glee clubbers.

"Now then. You did terrifically at Nationals last year, but—yes, Santana?"

Santana stood up. "Mr. Shuester, this year, I think the female lead should be split with me, Mercedes, and Rachel. I talked to everybody and they agreed and shit. I don't really think we should put all this pressure on Rachel when you don't even _like_ her."

"That isn't true, Santana," Mr. Shue said uncomfortably. "But I like the idea, Santana.

"Now, as I was saying, we need to up our game," the choir teacher continued. The older members, who knew what to expect, sighed and leaned back, ready for a long lecture. "Vocal Adrenaline, as you may know, won Nationals, and you can bet that they're already hard at work preparing for this year. We now have eighteen members, so that's more talent we can use. We're going to beat Vocal Adrenaline this year!"

He looked around at the club. "I know this is only the beginning of the year, but it's not too early to start getting ready for Sectionals."

"Mr. Shue?" Brittany said, raising her hand. "We should keep writing original songs for the competitions."

"I couldn't agree more," he said, seeming confused that Brittany had... well... everybody loved the blonde, but she wasn't known for making sense. "If you all want to start thinking of ideas, we'll meet back here in a week. Now, I want every new member to pair up with an old member, so that you can learn the basics of songwriting."

Matt paired with Mike. Blaine and Kurt clung together. Kalina and Connie became a group of four with Brittany and Santana.

Rachel looked lost, because up until then she'd been the best songwriter in the group, but Santana and Brittany grabbed her and pulled her over.

"Great, guys! See you in a week!" Mr. Shue grinned.


	3. Chapter 2

**A/N: I know it's been about six days since I updated, and I still haven't posted 'As My Soul', but here's Chapter 2. Everything is so hectic right now, getting ready for school and all, that I haven't had time to update... and then I lost five pages of this chapter, which I had to rewrite. Also, I just got back from a trip this weekend and I'm in the middle on unpacking. My schedule will probably even out by this week. Bear with me, guys. Thanks for all the kind words!**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing you recognize.**

* * *

><p>Rachel felt like Alice in Wonderland—falling down a dark hole, only there was nothing exciting about it and no end in sight. It was just a black void that was swallowing her up...<p>

She became vaguely aware that her friends were staring at her. Brittany and Santana. They tried to help, but they just couldn't. It seemed like they had asked her something.

"I... what?" Rachel asked. Santana winced at how dead her voice sounded.

"So, what did you think of the twins?" Santana asked.

The five girls had gone to Rachel's house. Kalina and Connie had just left, and the three of them were lounging in Rachel's newly redecorated room. Santana and Brittany were at their usual places on Rachel's bed, and Rachel was curled into a sad little ball on her desk chair, staring off into space.

"I thought they were good," Brittany said. "Except not as good as you guys or Mercedes."

Rachel remembered two redheaded, green-eyed girls singing 'When Love Takes Over' by David Guetta featuring Kelly Rowland. They had been... good? _Maybe a little flat on the high notes... _Rachel thought, almost sounding like her old self.

Santana sat up and grabbed her silver phone. "'M texting Puckerman," she told her friends. "The twins are gone and he needs to get his hot ass over here."

Not five minutes later, Puck bounded into Rachel's room. He immediately went over and scooped up Rachel, hugging her tightly.

"How are you, babe?" he asked, not putting her down.

"I—Fine. I'm fine."

Puck looked her over sceptically. He carried her over to her bed and sat down, pulling her onto his lap.

"Sup?" he smirked at Brittany and Santana. "How were _ta'owm_?"

"What's taome?" Brittany asked. "Is it a vegetable? Because we haven't eaten since lunch."

"It means 'the twins' in Hebrew," Puck shrugged.

"They can sing, but nothing spectacular," Santana said.

Rachel sat silently on Puck's lap. She didn't know why she was there, but her dads were dead. They'd been driving home and some drunk driver ran a red light at two in the afternoon. And they were dead.

"I'm hungry," Brittany announced. "Can we eat?"

"We have some lasagna," Rachel said quietly.

"Is it—"

"No, it isn't vegan, Noah," she said with a hint of a smile.

She got up and walked downstairs, her friends close behind her. Santana, Brittany, and Puck sat at the kitchen table, where Brittany started babbling about how amazing her little sister's birthday party was going to be in two weeks.

Rachel grabbed the lasagna for her friends, and a container of rice and beans from the night before for herself. She loaded the lasagna on a large plate and stuck it in the microwave.

"So Ray, will you help with Heather's birthday party the weekend after next?" Brittany asked. "That's Saturday the 17th. Puck and San already said they would."

Her friends turned to stare at her expectantly. "I... Sure. She's turning four, right?"

"Yeah."

The microwave beeped and Rachel took the lasagna out. She served it onto three plates, which she gave to her friends. Rachel then put her food in the microwave.

"Damn, Berry. This is _amazing!_" Puck said with his mouth full of lasagna. Santana and Brittany nodded fervently.

A car pulled up outside. The door slammed and high heels clicked up the path to the front door. A key turned in the lock, the front door opened, and Carma stepped inside.

"Hey kids. Rayla, do I smell lasagna?" the woman chirped, shutting the door behind her and coming into the kitchen. She still hadn't gotten Rachel's name right.

"Hi, Carma," Rachel said quietly. "Guys, this is my cousin, Carma Segal. She's my legal guardian. This is Santana Lopez, Brittany Pierce, and—"

"Noah Puckerman—Puck," Carma said, her tone suddenly changing. "I've heard about _you_."

Puck raised an eyebrow. "Oh?"

"I was just visiting with Judy Fabray," Carma smirked. "Yes, she had quite a bit to say about you."

The woman shrugged and sat down in Rachel's chair, next to Puck. Rachel dumped the rest of the lasagna on a plate and set it in front of her cousin.

The microwave beeped again and Rachel took her food from the microwave. She grabbed some milk from the fridge for her friends. She then tried to get the glasses, but they had been moved to the top shelf.

After watching Rachel try a couple times, Puck came up behind her and picked her up, putting her on his shoulder.

"Thank you, Noah." She grabbed four glasses. "Put me down, please."

Puck ignored her and brought her to the table, where he sat down and pulled her onto his lap.

"No_-ah!_"

He just smirked and kept eating.

Carma had carefully watched the whole exchange. "So are you two dating?" she asked.

"Nope," Puck said nonchalantly. He got a sly look on his face. "At least not yet—"

"No, we're not," Rachel interrupted quickly.

"You don't have a girlfriend then, Puck."

Puck shook his head, playing absentmindedly with Rachel's hair.

Santana watched Carma suspiciously. She didn't like the vibes the woman was sending. She was clearly into Puck, and that would never do. Santana had known Rachel for years, and Puck since they were in diapers, and she could read them better than they could. Those two liked each other, and she was intent on getting them together. Now this stupid woman was messing it all up.

Santana got up and put her plate in the sink. Puck tried to give her his plate, but she swatted it away.

"Do it yourself, Puckerman!" she snapped. The Latina sat back down at the table.

"So, what are your plans for the party, Brit?" Rachel asked.

"Party? What party?" Carma asked, instantly alert.

"My little sister's fourth birthday," Brittany explained. "We're gonna have a big party. Heather is inviting like..." she thought for a second. "I think there's like fifteen kids she's inviting. She wants to play all these games, but..."

"But basically it's gonna be a bunch of screaming toddlers running around your house," Puck supplied. "I'll get Mike and Sam to—"

"I have an idea!" Carma said excitedly. "You four are in some little glee club or something, right? You should get the glee club to run the party!"

"Um, Miss Segal, I don't know if—"

"Please, call me Carma," she smiled, cutting off Santana. "What kid doesn't love singing and dancing, right?"

"Yup," Brittany grinned. She seemed like the only one who agreed with Carma.

"So we can have a big... karaoke dance party!"

Santana, Brittany, and Puck burst out laughing.

"No, really. And it'll be good for the glee club, too, because... You have new members, right?" They nodded. "You can get to know them."

"I like it," Brittany said happily. "San, what time is it?"

"Eight on the dot," she said, checking her cell phone. "Oh, you have curfew, don't you?"

"Uh huh. Thanks for dinner Ray." Brittany got up and tugged on Santana's arm. They walked into the front hall with Puck and Rachel trailing after.

"Why do you have curfew?" Rachel asked.

"I have to be home before it gets dark, because last time I was out late, I got lost and I walked to Pittsburgh."

"_Pittsburgh?_ But Pittsburgh is in—"

"Or maybe it was Indianapolis," Brittany said thoughtfully. "I'm not really sure."

Santana pulled on her sandals and grabbed Brittany's arm. "Let's go." She glanced at Puck. "Need a ride, Puckerman?"

"Sure. Night Rach." He gave her a quick hug. "Later, Carma."

"C'mon, Ray. Please?" Brittany begged the next morning.

"What does Sue want with me?" Rachel asked listlessly.

"Trust me, it's good," Santana assured her. She grabbed one of Rachel's hands and Brittany grabbed the other. Together, they pulled the girl to Sue Sylvester's office. What the girl was about to hear would determine whether or not she would be accepted at McKinley.

Santana knocked on the door. "Come in," the cheerleading coach called.

Brittany pushed open the door. "Here's Rachel, Miss Sylvester," she announced.

"Rachel. Yes, please, have a seat."

Santana and Brittany gently pushed her in and closed the door. Rachel sat down in the chair facing Sue.

"As you may know, one of my Cheerios was involved in an... er... _accident_ at the beginning of this year."

_Sue Sylvester blew her whistle in the middle of Cheerios practice. She watched in satisfaction as a freshman fell off the side of the pyramid._

"_You think this is hard? Try being waterboarded, that's hard!" Oops, she'd used that one last year. Oh, well. "Tray! My office, now!"_

_The girl hobbled across the field to the school, where Sue was waiting._

"_You're off the Cheerios."_

"_But Miss Sylvester—"_

"_No questions!" That's what she got for not obeying the diet._

"Miss Sylvester?" Rachel's voice brought Sue back to the present.

"That leaves me with a space on my squad." She looked over the top of her reading glasses at the girl. "I've been watching you _very_ closely. You're now friends with Brittany, Santana, and Puckerman?"

"Yes, ma'am," Rachel said nervously. She glanced around the office at the trophies lining the walls.

"You think this is impressive, you should see my house," Sue said mildly, actually sounding slightly friendly. "But that's not the point. Congratulations, Rachel Berry. You've made the Cheerios."

"But, Miss Sylvester—" Rachel protested.

"Are you refusing?" Sue demanded, taking off her glasses and coming around the edge of her desk. "Think very carefully before you do. I understand that your fathers died in a car crash at the end of last year?"

Rachel didn't answer, but her eyes filled with tears as they always did when somebody talked about her dads.

"Everybody at this school hates you, or they did. You're dressing differently, you're friends with Santana, Brittany, and Puckerman—the next step, the one that will ensure you status at this school, is to join the Cheerios. I'm giving you this opportunity, and you're _refusing?_"

Rachel shifted uncomfortably, wiping away her tears. "No, ma'am. I—I'll do it."

"Of course you will," Sue said, returning to her seat behind her desk. "You can go." Rachel turned to the door. "Oh, Berry?" Rachel turned around. "You might want to change. Go put on your new uniform."

Rachel nodded. "I will, Miss Sylvester." She opened the door to see Brittany and Santana waiting for her.

"Well? What did she say?" Brittany asked breathlessly.

Santana smirked. "You're in, aren't you?"

Rachel nodded, closing the door behind her.

"Awesome! C'mon." Brittany grabbed Rachel's hand and linking the pinkie of her other hand with Santana's.

"Where are we going?" Rachel asked. She was feeling excited for the first time since her dads died.

"To get you a uniform, silly," Brittany grinned. They went down the stairs to the basement and walked along the hall until they got to an unmarked door, which Santana opened, and they stepped in.

Inside, Rachel blinked in the bright light and looked around. There was rack upon rack of Cheerios uniforms, as well as a huge bin of pompoms and another bin of white tennis shoes.

"_Si?_" a short, motherly Latina woman asked, coming forward. "Oh, hello Brittany, Santana. What you need?"

"Aunt Maria, this is Rachel Berry. She needs a Cheerios uniform." Santana turned to Rachel. "This is my aunt Maria, my dad's sister. She's worked for Sue for years."

Maria turned and went rummaging through the racks until she chose a uniform. "You try this." She gestured to one end of the room which was closed off by a curtain, obviously a change room of sorts.

Rachel took the uniform and went over behind the curtain. She quickly got undressed and pulled on the uniform. It felt a size too big.

"Does it fit?" Brittany called.

"A little too big," Rachel replied.

She heard shuffling footsteps approaching the curtain. "You try this one," Maria said, handing her a second uniform.

Rachel took off the first uniform and pulled on the second, which fit perfectly.

Rachel gathered her clothes and the first uniform and exited the change room.

"Perfect!" Santana grinned. "But you're gonna need shoes. And pompoms."

Maria took the first uniform from Rachel and hung it back on a rack. She then went over to the bins and grabbed a pair of pompoms.

"What size shoes you are?" Maria asked Rachel.

"Seven," Rachel replied.

Maria selected a pair of shoes and came back over. She gave the shoes to Rachel, who quickly pulled them on, and then took the pompoms.

"Thanks, Maria," Rachel said.

The three girls quickly left and went upstairs. As they moved through the halls to their first class, Rachel felt all eyes on her, and for the first time, she didn't feel like curling up in a corner and crying. She felt happy, and confident, and ready to face anything.

"Really? You're kidding!" laughed a voice that Rachel had gotten to know too well since her fathers had died. Carma came around the corner laughing, side-by-side with—Rachel took a step back in shock—Noah Puckerman.

She knew Brittany and Santana were staring at her, but her confidence had crashed. She thought she could face anything, but as she watched, Carma stood on her toes and planted a kiss on Puck's lips.

Of course, if she'd paid close enough attention, she would've seen that Puck was looking as uncomfortable as possible under the circumstances, and he pushed Carma away the second she kissed him, but she was too caught up thinking _It's like those cougars, or... It's like April all over again! Only worse, because this is my _cousin_!_

Rachel suddenly felt nauseous. She turned and fled into the girl's bathroom and threw up in the first stall.

**A/N 2: Sorry to leave it there but I ran out of time. I know it's a bad ending, I'm sorry, I'll make it up to you guys as soon as I can.**

**A/N 3: So I made a few adjustments. I realized that Carma dropped out of college, not high school, so she couldn't start going to McKinley (besides, that would just sound waaay too much like the whole April Rhodes thing). Also, as a truly insightful person pointed out, Puck is always cheating and breaking hearts. Sure, he's a heartbreaker, but why can't he be nice, just this once?**

**I know this is a crap excuse, but I'm literally running on crazy amounts of caffeine and only a few hours of sleep-my insomnia suddenly decided to kick in, right when school started. Damn. So this chapter started going in the wrong direction, and I made some changes. Sorry for any confusion or anything.  
><strong>


	4. Chapter 3

**A/N: So hopefully, if you're here right now, you read the updated version of chapter 2. If not, please do so now (only the last few paragraphs were really changed). Otherwise, the rest of this story will probably be pretty confusing. Also, I'm really sorry that it's so long between updates. Really. I am. I just can't update as often as we would like. **_**C'est la vie.**_

**Anyway. On with the story!**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing you recognize.**

_Rachel suddenly felt nauseous. She turned and fled into the girl's bathroom and threw up in the first stall._

"Ray?" a quiet voice said from behind her. "Rachel? Are you OK?"

Rachel became aware of somebody holding her hair back with one hand and rubbing her back with the other. After a moment, she sat up and saw Brittany. The taller girl handed her some toilet paper. Rachel wiped her mouth and flushed the toilet, brushing past Brittany to exit the cramped stall.

Rachel stared at herself in the mirror. She looked unrecognizable: her hair was up in a high ponytail and she was wearing—she'd almost forgotten—a Cheerios uniform.

"You know he doesn't like her, right?" Brittany said, following Rachel and standing behind her.

"What do you mean?" Rachel asked, her voice cracking.

"Puck. He doesn't like your cousin." Brittany thought for a second, absentmindedly rubbing Rachel's back. "I don't either, though. I saw her yelling at the ducks in the park last week."

Rachel almost smiled despite herself. Brittany could always cheer her up.

"Oh, by the way, Santana told me to tell you that's she's yelling at Puck right now. And I think she just kicked Carma's ass." Britt smiled softly. "I love San. She's nice, like... unicorns. Oh, I think Lord Tubbington has been seeing a unicorn. He keeps getting covered in shiny dust."

"That's cause you pour glitter on him, babe," smirked a familiar Latina who had just come through the door. She immediately went over and hugged Rachel. "How you holding up, honey?"

Rachel didn't respond.

"I know that was hard to see and shit. Carma is a _bitch_, you hear me?" Santana said angrily. Then her tone softened. "I kicked her ass, Rach. Figured you wouldn't mind."

"Santana, while her behaviour was certainly inappropriate, I do not condone violence under any circumstances—"

"Have to say, Berry, I'm impressed," Santana grinned. "That's the first time you've sounded almost like your old self since..." She trailed off, realizing what she (almost) said.

Rachel pulled away and facing the mirror again, noting for the first time how thin and pale she was, the dark circles under her eyes.

"Puckerman is waiting outside," Santana said after a few minutes. "I told him I wanted to talk to you first, but he wants to talk to you. Is that okay?"

Rachel's jaw hardened. "No."

Santana blinked. She clearly hadn't been expecting that. "Rachel?"

"I won't see him. He was... he..." Her eyes stung and she blinked back tears. _Be strong._ "I hate him."

Brittany whimpered from somewhere behind her, but Rachel shut her ears to the sound.

"No you don't," Santana said quietly.

"I _do_," Rachel insisted. She crossed her arms over her uniform. "He's cruel, and a player, and I have no idea why I'm friends with him."

Brittany whispered something in Santana's ear, who nodded before turning back to Rachel. "You really believe that, don't you?" she smirked. Rachel nodded firmly. "That's a lie. You're in love with him."

Rachel stumbled back a couple steps. "I... That's not true!"

"Yeah it is," Brittany interjected quietly. "You know hate and love are really the same thing? Hate is just really hurt, angry love."

Rachel looked at her in surprise, forgetting her anguish. Brittany had said something _true_. Because it was completely accurate.

Santana looked at Rachel's face carefully before saying, "So you'll talk to him?"

Rachel gave up and nodded faintly. She didn't remember closing her eyes, but the next thing she knew, a pair of strong arms were encircling her waist and a voice whispered, "You can beat me up if you want to."

Rachel was silent for a minute, relishing in the feel of having Puck so close, before saying, "I don't think I could, even if I wanted to."

She opened her eyes and looked at the mirror to see Puck standing behind her, hugging her tightly, and Brittany and Santana standing a little off to the side, pinkies linked, looking anxious. She met Puck's gaze in the mirror and saw him taking in her pale skin, the circles under her eyes, how much weight she'd lost.

"You're right," he whispered. "Sorry, babe, but you look awful. When was the last time you ate?"

Rachel thought hard, she really did. "A day? Maybe two?"

Puck tightened his hold on her. She turned and buried her face in his chest, not wanting to see the pained look that had crossed all her friends' faces. She felt somebody hugging her from behind and realized that Brittany and Santana had moved to form a group hug, with her in the middle.

"Maybe we should skip the rest of the day," Santana suggested after a moment.

Rachel shrugged and pulled away from her friends. "You don't have to do that. I'm pretty tired, I think I'll just go home and sleep." Rachel brushed her hair behind her ears, avoiding her friends' eyes. "You shouldn't miss school. Really, I'll be fine."

"Can I drive you home at least?" Puck asked.

Rachel shook her head. "I want to walk. I'll see you guys later, OK?" She tried to smile, grabbing her things from her locker and heading out the door.

Rachel kept it together through the hall and out the doors, but it was too much for her. She staggered over to the bleachers and collapsed, sobbing. Her dads were dead, her only friends were three people who until then had hated her, and her cousin—and legal guardian—was trying to steal one of them from her!

She sobbed for a while, watching the tears splash on her new Cheerios uniform. Eventually, she fell asleep, curled up there on the cold metal of the bleachers.

"You'll never make it, honey."

Rachel stirred and opened her eyes to see her cousin standing over her. "What are you talking about?" she asked, wiping the tears she hadn't realized she'd been crying.

Carma sat down neatly beside her on the bench. "Showbiz, Rayla. Life. You don't stand a chance." Carma glanced over at her, then back at the field, where the football players were warming up.

Rachel hadn't realized so much time had passed: school must be over if football practice was starting.

"You know your status hasn't changed in this place," Carma said after a minute. "You can prance around in your cheerleader uniform, singing songs in your precious little glee club and mooning after Noah Puckerman, but nothing has changed. Everybody hates you, Rachel."

Rachel pulled her jacket just a little tighter around her—a black and red Cheerios letterman jacket, brand-new, courtesy of her new status on the Cheerios. The day had suddenly turned cold.

"Your dads are dead. You have no family—I'm not really your cousin, you know. Carma Segal died seven years ago." The woman shrugged. "The people you call 'friends' now? In a year, they'll go off to college. In five years, they'll be building lives for themselves. In ten, fifteen, twenty years, they'll be married with children and a good life. They'll have forgotten all about poor Rachel Berry, stuck here, living all by herself in her big, lonely house, working odd jobs and trying desperately to make ends meet."

Rachel blinked back tears—but the worst thing was, this woman, whoever she was, had completely described Rachel's image of her future. Usually, she was sure she would succeed and be really happy with her life, becoming a famous Broadway star, all that.

But this woman, who knew nothing about her, had just described Rachel's worst nightmare. The future she'd been picturing lately.

"You know I'm telling the truth, Rachel. You have no future. Give it up."

Rachel started to cry. Big, hot tears rolled down her face and fell into her lap. The two of them sat there for a while—it could have been minutes, it could have been half an hour—the only sounds coming from the football practice.

Carma—no, not Carma. Carma was dead. The blonde woman stood up and stretched. "I have to run. Swim good, Rachel."

Rachel gave her a blank look. "What do you mean?" she asked, suppressing her tears.

"You're trying to swim from something bigger than you. Life is gonna break you down, no doubt about it. You're swimming from your future, Rachel. Stop fighting. Just kick off your shoes, and..."

"Swim good," Rachel whispered. The words continued to echo around in her head long after the woman left. She got up in a daze and climbed down the bleachers, slowly making her way home.

Rachel unlocked the door and stepped inside. She quietly made her way up the stairs and into her room.

She shut the door behind her. Tossing her backpack on her bed, she headed over to her huge closet. She pulled off her Cheerios uniform and opened her closet doors, grabbing the first thing she found and pulling it on: a black dress suit which she had worn for her fathers' funeral.

Rachel headed back downstairs and out the door, locking it behind her. She went over to the one car that remained in the driveway: a red Lincoln town car, one of the newer models that didn't look like a limo, but was nevertheless still fancier than most cars in Lima.

She got in and started the engine, pulling out of the driveway and turning onto Highway 81.

Twenty minutes later, she turned onto Highway 75 and kept driving.

Three hours later, she was still driving. She was getting further from Lima and she knew she should head back, but she kept driving.

Finally, the tears she'd been holding back burst out and she turned down a side road. There was five miles left of road when her eyes got blurry from crying and she couldn't see. Then she pulled over and wept.

Rachel cried until she ran out of tears. Finally, she got out and looked around. She was at the edge of a cliff overlooking Lake Erie—that she knew because of the general direction she'd been heading.

_Swim good. Kick off your shoes and swim good..._

Rachel reached for a pad of paper from the glove compartment. She started writing, the words flowing as they hadn't since she'd written _Get It Right._

_I'm about to drive in the ocean  
>Imma try to swim from something<br>Bigger than me  
>Kick off my shoes<br>And swim good, swim good  
>Take off this suit<br>And swim good, swim good_

Rachel paused. She stretched, lay down on the grass, and continued writing.

_That's a pretty big trunk  
>On my Lincoln town car, ain't it<br>Big enough to take these broken hearts  
>And put em in it...<br>Now I'm driving round  
>On the boulevard trunk bleeding<br>And every time the cops pull me over  
>They don't ever see them<br>They never see them_

_And I've got this black suit on  
>Roaming around like I'm ready for a funeral<em>

_Five more miles till the road runs out_

_I'm about to jump in the ocean_

_Imma try to swim from something_

_Bigger than me  
>Kick off my shoes<br>And swim good, swim good  
>Take off this suit<br>And swim good, swim good_

Much as she had disliked the woman pretending to be her cousin Carma, she had been right. Rachel's life was going nowhere. And she had provided the inspiration for the song.

_Got some pretty good beats  
>On this 808c beating<br>Memory seats I'm sitting on stay heated  
>I would've put tints on my windows<br>But what's the difference_

_Feeling like a ghost no Schwayze  
>Ever since I lost my daddies<br>_

_And I've got this black suit on  
>Roaming around like I'm ready for a funeral<em>

_Five more miles till the road runs out_

_I'm about to jump in the ocean_

_Imma try to swim from something_

_Bigger than me  
>Kick off my shoes<br>And swim good, swim good  
>Take off this suit<br>And swim good, swim good  
><em>

As Rachel wrote, she sang bits and pieces, imagining how it would sound. As she sang, her voice echoed and bounced back to her. She wrote and wrote.

Finally, it got too dark to see her hand in front of her face. She got into her car, put down her pen and paper on the passenger seat, started the car, and headed back home.

"Where have you BEEN?" Santana demanded the on Monday. Rachel sighed, brushing past her to open her locker. "Last thing we saw, you said you were tired and wanted to go home and sleep. That was last Friday. Since then you haven't been answering your phone, we checked your house and you weren't there—what's this?"

Rachel tried to hide the envelope behind her back, but it was too late.

"Your letter of resignation from the Cheerios? And... you're quitting _glee club?_" Santana screeched.

Rachel grabbed her arm and pulled her into an empty classroom. Thank god Puck had an extra football practice and Brittany had a doctor's appointment.

"Explain, Berry. NOW."

Rachel carefully sorted through her binder, making sure she had everything required for her classes. "I can't handle it anymore. Cheerios is too much effort, and besides, I don't fit in. And at glee club... there's too many people asking questions. But really, Santana, it's none of your business."

"None of my—? Listen, Berry. First off, glee is one of the most important things in your life. Everybody knows that. As for the Cheerios? You've never even been to a practice! How are you supposed to know if you don't like it?"

Rachel sighed. "We need to get to class."

"Rachel—"

"Not now, Santana," Rachel said, brushing past her and reaching for the doorknob.

"What about Puckerman?" Santana called. It was clear she was desperate. "You love him, Berry. Rachel."

Rachel paused, but didn't turn around.

"I know you're having a hard time. I know you hate your life." Santana came forward and gently spun Rachel around to face her. "But you fuckin' love him. I know that you're trying to avoid everybody as much as possible, but do you really want to cut _him _out of your life?"

Truth? That whole weekend, she'd been sleeping, working on songs, and studiously _avoiding_ everybody from school. The reason Santana had thought no one was home is that Rachel kept all the lights off and hid in her room most of the time. Or perhaps Santana had come when Rachel was out by Lake Erie. Rachel had spent the whole Sunday there.

Point was, she had taken the-woman-who-was-not-Carma's words to heart... mostly. She _was_ writing songs, but she'd given up all dreams of Broadway. Honestly, she didn't what she wanted to do with her life, but she figured that she should cut off from her friends before they cut off from her.

"That's not true."

"What?" Rachel asked.

"We won't cut off from you," Santana said, stroking Rachel's cheek with her fingertips.

Rachel hadn't realized that she'd said that out loud. "How can I trust you? How can I know that you're telling the truth?"

Santana sighed. Finally, she said, "I know it's really mean of me to play this card, but you love Puckerman. If you can't stay with us because you want to..."

Rachel knew Santana wasn't talking about just hanging out, although that was part of it. She meant _Stay alive._

"Stay for him, OK?" Santana smiled sadly, watching Rachel walk out of the empty classroom.

**A/N: OK, OK, I know y'all probably hate me right now. This story suddenly became all angsty and not much Puckleberry. It's just that I'm kind of channelling some of my more angsty feelings through Rachel. I was also doing some thinking: her dads are dead. She has no family (Carma was being annoying and hard to write for, so I got rid of her). Wouldn't she get depressed and angsty?**

**Don't worry, though, things will turn out OK.**

**I hope.**

**By the way, the song is "Swim Good" by Frank Ocean. I was listening to the cover by eebsofresh on YouTube. I did change one or two lyrics. Don't sue me, OK?**


End file.
